


Just Fine (Without Me)

by convenience



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Black Hermione Granger, F/M, Heartbreak, Hermione Granger-centric, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:41:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24422959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/convenience/pseuds/convenience
Summary: Hermione finds out that Ron's fallen for someone else whilst she's been away. She doesn't cope as well as she thought she might.--And I'd never wish this feelingOn anyone but himBut I see he's doing just fineWithout me
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ron Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	Just Fine (Without Me)

Hermione Granger hadn’t been Hermione Granger for over six months. She’d been Mary Wollastonecraft, a student at the Australian National University, getting her bachelor’s degree in law. She’d been granted her needed A-levels after taking the appropriate examinations, in what must have been the shortest course known to modern man. In all fairness, Hermione had no reason to go for a degree, especially not in law, but she had decided to dedicate as much time needed to getting her parents back. It had taken over her life.

This meant leaving behind a budding relationship with Ron, someone who cared about her very much, and the people she loved. It didn’t help that she hadn’t really made any close friends whilst in Australia, either. It still stung, to only see them on the holidays, to not have Ron hold her and whisper things about spiders in tap shoes, to see that their lives were changing so much and she’d only got two days at a time to take it all in.

It was the start of her fourth year in Australia, and she was prepared to spend a fifth there if it meant that she found her family. She kept getting closer and closer, she could swear she had nearly gotten it. Then her friend, Felicity Jerome, had caught her making tea, which was perfectly ordinary, only she had been five feet away from it at the time, making her toast. Of course, it was cleaned up as soon as it happened, but Felicity was wary of her, and Hermione couldn’t help but feel that she had done a good friend a disservice. Not to mention, the ministry came to her flat, something she hoped would never happen.

After a letter to Harry, she’d decided that what she needed was to come home for a week. Harry had a habit of not warning Hermione of things that had happened whilst she was away, because he was aware that she might not return at all if he did. The war had left her with often debilitating anxiety and PTSD, and there was something to be said for the method of avoiding every trigger so extremely that you leave the wizarding world and go to the other side of the world; plus copious amounts of therapy.

“Mione!” Harry cheered, standing on the platform with Teddy, who was now about five and loved being at train stations more than anything. He loved anything with wheels and Harry wanted nothing more to show him all the wheeled pieces of machinery in the world if it was what would make him happy. “I brought Teddy with me, are you hungry? I’ll buy lunch!” 

The years had undoubtedly been good to Harry - he’d grown into the crazy hair and had decided to stick with the circle glasses. He didn’t look as tired as he had before, and there was an energy of life around him that you would only get from someone who was thoroughly enjoying themselves. Hermione felt good knowing it was true half of the time.

Hermione embraced him quickly, the feeling of it being the closest she’d felt to home in a long time, then Teddy, who settled for a slobbery kiss on the cheek. She was so happy to see the both of them that she didn’t mind that it looked like she’d been licked by a Rottweiler. “Sure, it’s been a long ride, and I’ve only had a Boots Meal Deal.” A Boots meal deal was a powerful thing, but it couldn’t keep you full for longer than four hours.

“I see you’ve gone full Crocodile Dundee,” Harry teased as they walked from the train station and into town. Both Harry and Hermione loved muggle civilisation just as much as wizarding - maybe not as children, but the polish had soon worn off, and it was nice to not be recognised as a war hero - or criminal, depending who you were. They found a little cafe that looked like it was kid friendly enough for Ted not to go insane, and sat down.

Hermione soon realised why they had gone into a public place to eat, and not Harry’s flat. “Sorry, what?” She asked again as her fork clattered to her plate, distracting the other customers and earning a look off of a waitress. Hermione couldn’t find it within herself to care.

“Ron has started dating Luna. I wanted to tell you before you saw them.” He repeated, handing Teddy a colouring book and some crayons that he kept in his bag for occasions like this. Teddy didn’t need to see Aunt Mione flip her shit. “They’re really good together, and they both want to see you.”

“Okay.” She smiled like you would do if nothing had gone wrong, if your ex wasn’t dating a close friend. “Ron has all the rights in the world to date Luna, and I hope they’re really happy together.” Hermione’s voice had taken a clipped, chipper tone.

“....Hermione.” Harry’s had not. He only sounded worried.

Whatever facade she was trying to put on clearly wasn’t very strong, because her smile was wobbling, and her eyes had gone watery. “It’s fine, Harry. I’m fine.” Suddenly, Hermione’s food had become very interesting, as she didn’t want to look at anything but the ugly plate it was displayed on. “Does he love her?” The plate began to shake a little, and she knew she had to look away.

“Should I pay and we can go?” Harry instantly began flagging down the waitress before he could finish the sentence. “Hi, yeah, can we get the bill?” He ended up paying a ten pound tip to avoid hassle, and got them into a little back alley, where they disapparated into Harry’s front garden. He lived in a little cottage, not unlike that of his parents’, and he actually took great care in his flowers, both front and back. It paid off. Even Malfoy complimented his peonies.

“You didn’t answer me, you know.” Hermione told him later on that night when Teddy had been put to bed and she’d calmed down a little. “Does he? Does she? Do they have a dog? He always wanted a dog.” She then found herself regretting everything she’d done over the past four years, especially not getting Ron a dog. Luna would have gotten him three dogs.

Even the least perceptive of people could have told you that Harry very much wished he hadn’t ever told her. They were watching Come Dine With Me, Harry’s favourite show. Hell, he could have loved Countdown if it meant he didn’t have to tell Hermione about Ron and Luna’s relationship.

“I’ll invite him around for lunch tomorrow.” He sighed, defeated. “They don’t have a dog, they don’t live together, and honestly I don’t know if they’re in love or not. Just.. you can’t expect him to wait for you, you’ve been gone for four years. Haven’t you…?” The question hung heavily in the air; Harry had assumed that someone like Hermione would find connections easily. Maybe she really had been away too long.

It was rare that Hermione didn’t have to think about an answer before she gave it. “No. No-one. I still love him, he knows that. I told him, when I left, that if he wants to see someone else, or if he falls for someone, then he should.” She breathed out, the words not coming easily over her little tumbler of firewhisky. “Because I love him, and I don’t want to hurt him, and it’s fine, because Luna is a lovely girl!” With that, Hermione promptly exploded, and broke one of the light fittings in the ceiling. Harry fixed it with a flick of his wand, but was more concerned about the crying woman on his sofa.

“Oh, Hermione Granger, you emotional lump.” Harry groaned, setting down his glass and wrapping his arms around her. “We’re all hurt. It’s the trauma. Are sure you’ll be okay to see him?”

“Need to do it, don’t I? He’s my best friend, I can’t avoid him. Plus, if he’s genuinely happy with Luna, then I want to wish them both congratulations. She’s a nice girl.” Hermione sounded a lot like she was trying to convince herself more than anything. “I had my chance, and I chose my family.”

“And you’re not going to set birds on him…?” 

“That was once! I was fifteen, and in my defence, I had just realised I liked him and it was a life ruining experience.” Hermione grumbled, finishing her firewhisky and setting the little crystal tumbler on the coaster. “I’m going to bed. Night, Harry.”

Sometimes, late at night, Harry pondered what had been the scariest experience of his life, and he couldn’t have been more sure of the fact that the next day’s lunch would be up there with some of the greats. It made him laugh a little to know that Voldemort had less power than an upset Hermione Granger. He had always thought that, though.

Kudos to Hermione, she had done quite well. She’d wished Teddy off happily, talked politely with Andromeda, placated her fussy tea order. She’d cooked lunch, and thoroughly distracted herself to the point of forgetting that Ron was even coming with Luna. Nearly. Her heart leapt at the door and she had to answer it otherwise all of the bravery she was known for was worth squat.

It was by some cruel trick of fate that Luna had work that Monday. At least then Hermione could focus on something other than him, even if it was so closely related. Didn’t have to think of the soft skin, the freckles on his chest, the way he laughed when he got something right, not out of humour but out of joy, the way he held her at night, as if she’d be gone when he woke up. Now, it was all she could think of. Skin, heat, sweat, sin. And he was standing right infront of her.

“Mione! You’ve got a tan.” Ron grinned, as if it were not plainly obvious. She had dark skin anyway, and so it only got darker in the exposed sunlight of Canberra. “It’s good to see you, you look good!”

Harry was fairly certain those were the words of a drowning man, or at least one about to succumb to colossal tides. He didn’t quite know what to do, as he had befriended both on such an extreme level that to side with either would cause him great pain.

“It’s good to see you too, Ron. Is Luna ill?” Hermione asked, walking through to the kitchen, her own words slicing the insides of her cheeks like razor blades. She sipped lemonade to soothe the sting.

She heard him choke on his own spit, and although it hadn’t been her initial intention, she found a little joy in making him panic. Maybe she wasn’t too far distanced from her fifteen year old self, so full of emotion that she thought she might explode. “Work, actually, uh, Xeno called her in. Issue with the printing.”

The same Xeno that got them all locked up, Hermione thought bitterly, though all she said was, “Shame. I’d been looking forward to seeing her, I had a chance to flick through the quibbler, Harry’s got an edition. She is a talented writer.” Hermione wasn’t lying; Luna was one of the smartest people she’d grown to know, just a little misunderstood.

Ron’s eyes lit up. Hermione thought she might die on the spot.

“She’s brilliant, isn’t she? Absolutely brilliant, I mean, some of the things she researches, blimey.” He gushed, brown eyes now sparkling with embers of gold and flecks of electricity she could only hope to muster in memories of years ago. Fuck Luna Lovegood, and the beautiful, intelligent, kind, accepting unicorn she fucking rode in on. “She was telling me, last night, about her research on narwhals and the therapeutic use of something or other - I can’t really remember, but it seemed really good at the time!”

All she could do was nod. Nod and smile as the love of her life recounted the way Luna smiled, or Luna spoke, or Luna laughed. Hermione could only hope to inspire such passion, and regretted the way she fled the room, chasing whatever emotion she had away until she reached the back garden, sitting on the back steps and burying her head in her hands, thick and heavy sobs enrapturing her.

“Mione? What’s wrong?” Ron called, Harry chasing close behind with the same face he always had when Ron was about to do something stupid. “I was o-oh. Luna.”

“Not her. It could have been anyone.” Hermione told him, so sick with it, so wretched, that she vomited into the nearest bush, which happened to be full of blooming begonias and lush green leaves. “It’s fine, Ron, go inside. This is my issue, and I’m fine!” She shouted, wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve.

“Right, because this looks fine, and you just vommed into Harry’s garden! What is wrong, Hermione? I know we’re not together but I’m still-”

“That’s exactly the problem, isn’t it?” Hermione spat viciously, standing up and whirling around to face him. “That I’ve messed up all that was good in my life in search of something that’s gone! Gone, gone, gone, and you’re so in love with her! I made my bed, I’ll lie in it, so let me vomit in the fucking flowers, Ronald!”

Ron edged closer, daring to stare into the mouth of a Lion on its hind legs. “You’re upset, because you told me to love someone else, and I did? And I’m happy?”

“Yes!” She cried, eyes blazing a thousand suns. “Of course I am, you great pillock, and I feel absolutely horrific about it so if you wouldn’t mind I would quite like to vomit again and then go straight back to Canberra!”

“I’m sorry. Don’t tell Luna - she’ll get something in her head about the morality of the world and realise she should leave me.” Ron muttered bitterly, storming through the little conservatory and into the house. 

\--

Dear Luna,  
I’m sorry that I couldn’t see you this Monday, I hope you are well. The Quibbler remains one of the most reliable magazines out there, and I really do wish you and Ron all the best. He will treat you as you deserve, and if he doesn’t, remind him of just what that is, and check in on him. He doesn’t say as much as he thinks, and he doesn’t think nearly as much as he feels.

Your friend,   
Hermione Granger.

\--

“You sent her a letter.” Ron muttered to her at the bar, it was George’s birthday, and so naturally everyone there was either drunk or too mad to need alcohol. Ron was a little bit of the former, Luna was completely the latter, and Hermione was neither. She’d cried in the loo because she’d seen Ron and Luna kiss. God, she couldn’t stand herself. Neither could anyone else.

“I did.” Hermione confirmed, nursing a vodka and coke. “I guess she got it, then. She didn’t reply.” 

He grinned a little, as Luna began dancing with Ginny. She looked, to him, like life. Pure and unbending. Like spring, like coming home, like watching the leaves turn and knowing they’ll be the same come next year. Just as Hermione had once sparked in him fire, impulse and crazed madness. Ron would happily argue that Hermione was far more insane than Luna would ever be. Hermione would agree with him.

“She always replies eventually. When she thinks the time is right.” He hummed, sipping what must have been his fifth beer. “I love her so much, Hermione. I’m so lucky.”

Hermione wondered when it would stop feeling like someone was trying to stab away at her chest. “Congratulations, Ron. She’s good for you.” She decided, the words bittersweet on her tongue. “I’m sorry I left, but I’m glad she brings you joy like this. I can’t remember when I saw you smile like this last.”

“When I was with you.”


End file.
